


Easter

by JetBlackGoldfish



Series: Easter [1]
Category: Political RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-16 17:23:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18526135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JetBlackGoldfish/pseuds/JetBlackGoldfish
Summary: In post-war Syria, the Assads try to readjust back to peaceful life by inviting both of their families over for the Easter holidays





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to DeviantArt during Easter 2017

Syria had been victorious, Syria was all in one piece, and peace had returned to Syria. 

It was Easter, and the Assads were trying to readjust back to normal, peaceful life. They decided that inviting their families over for the Easter holiday would help with that - it had been so long since they'd seen some of them.

 

 

**GOOD FRIDAY, AFTERNOON**

 

 

'Bashar, it's me. Open the door already!'

Bashar recognised the voice down the intercom immediately - a voice he hadn't heard in a long time. Almost like an excited child, he ran down the stairs, towards the front door.

He unlocked and opened the door. His younger brother, Maher, was standing there.

Maher was a short, sturdy man, with brown hair and brown eyes. Bashar, however, looked very different - he was tall, thin and had black hair and blue eyes. Both wore jeans and designer T-shirts. 

Maher hugged Bashar first. 'Hello again,' he said.

'Hello, Maher,' Bashar said before hugging Maher back. 'I've missed you,' he whispered.

'All right, calm down,' Maher said a little bluntly, thinking Bashar was getting tearful. 'Can I come in now?'

'Of course.'

Maher entered the building and flopped down on the sofa. Bashar sat down next to him and asked 'How's things?'

'Good. It's great seeing the wife and kids every day again.'

'I'd imagine so,' Bashar said, his voice slowly trailing away. He was now looking at his knees.

'What's wrong now?'

'It's just... you were out there... and I still got to see my family most of the time...'

'Don't be so hard on yourself, you didn't start this ... it's over now, anyway, and things are getting better!'

'Mm.'

'Come on, lighten up,' Maher said, hitting Bashar on the shoulder. Bashar smiled and hit Maher back. Before long, the two adult brothers were play-fighting on the sofa.

'No, Maher, don't tickle me - ' Bashar laughed, and Maher stopped. They both looked up and saw Asma standing behind the sofa.

'Oh ... hello,' Bashar said sheepishly.

'Hello again, Asma,' Maher said.

'And hello again to you, Maher.' 

Bashar and Maher sat up, and Hafez, Zein and Karim came downstairs. 'Uncle Maher!' Karim exclaimed joyfully.

'My, you've all grown so much!' Maher said. He stood up and approached Hafez. 'Want some gum?'

'Yeah, sure - wait... this isn't one of those finger traps, is it?'

'Certainly not, my dear nephew.'

'Oh, OK then - ow!' 

 


	2. Part Two

**SATURDAY MORNING, 2-3am**

 

Maher was asleep on the sofa, covered by a terracotta-coloured blanket and wearing what was clearly a bootleg Simpsons T-shirt, which Maher insisted was genuine.

He woke up suddenly, and sat up. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the light was on in the kitchen.

'Who's there?'

'Maher, it's me.'

Maher looked over the sofa and saw Bashar in the kitchen, wearing grey pyjama bottoms and eating biscuits out of the packet.

'What are you doing up?' Maher asked.

'Oh, I woke up, but I'm going back up soon.' He walked over to the sofa. 'You seem startled.'

'Oh ... that ... it's nothing, really....'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes, Bashar, everything's fine.'

'Do you want a biscuit?'

'Can I have the packet?'

'Go on, then,' Bashar said, giving Maher the packet. Maher ate two biscuits, brushed the crumbs off his T-shirt, then started on another.

'You know that's a fake shirt, right?'

'It is not.'

'It is.'

'Prove it.'

'Sometimes, in London, if I'd had a hard day, I'd go back to the flat and watch it. I know for a fact that that shirt is fake.'

'You're wrong,' Maher said. He looked down at his 'Spimsons' T-shirt. He looked at Bashar. 'You could've put a shirt on.'

'Why? I only came downstairs for something to eat.'

'I can see your underwear.'

Bashar looked down at himself - indeed, he could see it a little, but Maher was only in his underwear and the obviously fake Simpsons T-shirt.

'Yeah, well, you're only in your underwear.'

'Boxers or briefs?'

'Goodnight, Maher.'

'Come on, Bash-'

' **Goodnight** , Maher,' Bashar repeated, going upstairs.

 

**SATURDAY EVENING**

 

It was sunset. Asma had gone out, leaving Bashar with the kids.

'Baba,' Karim said while looking at a tablet. 'Look at this.'

It was a waffle, just standing there on a kitchen surface. It fell over.

At first, there was silence. Then, Bashar burst out laughing and rested his head on the table.

'Baba? Baba, are you OK?'

Bashar sat up and, still laughing, said 'Yes, I'm OK.' He tousled Karim's hair.

The buzz of the intercom filled the room. 'We're here.'

As Bashar walked over to the front door, he thought 'I hope I don't start laughing in front of them all because then I'll have to explain why and say that Karim showed me a waffle on YouTube'.

He opened the door and Asma was there, along with her parents who had come over from London. They went in and immediately showered the kids with presents, Easter eggs and comments on how much they'd grown and how much they looked like their parents.

'Where's Maher?' Asma asked Bashar.

'In the shower,' was Bashar's reply, 'he should be down here s - oh, there he is.'

Maher came downstairs and asked the kids 'What's all this?!'

'It's my parents, Maher,' Asma said. 'They seem to have gone overboard with gifts.'

  
***

  
All sat around a small table, Bashar, Asma, the kids, Maher and Asma's parents had just finished a light meal.

'Where are you staying?' Bashar asked the in-laws.

'We've booked into that Four Seasons,' said Asma's mother. 'Oh yes, that reminds me - we got presents for you two, too! They're in the living room, one moment-'

'I'll get them,' Asma's father said, leaving the table.

Hafez, Zein and Karim each had one large egg and a gift - each now had a new phone and new designer clothes, which they were told made up for 'all those birthdays and Christmases they had missed'.

Asma's father came back and gave Asma and Bashar their gifts, wrapped in silver wrapping paper.

Asma opened her present - an iPad and a soft, thin grey sweatshirt. It was so soft that she insisted that Bashar and the kids touch it.

'Oh, and this is yours,' Asma's mother said, handing her a medium white chocolate egg.

'Thank you,' she said.

Bashar got an iPad too, which he was clearly excited about, and oh, what's this? 'Yay, another shirt!' He also got a small chocolate egg with chocolate buttons.

Bashar looked over at Maher. He hadn't got anything, but to be fair, Asma's parents didn't know he was going to be here. None of this bothered Maher, but still, Bashar thought he looked left out.

'Here, Maher, you can have this,' Bashar said, placing the little egg in front of him.  
  



	3. Part Three

**EASTER SUNDAY, LATE AFTERNOON**

  
Easter was rather chaotic. First thing in the morning, Bashar and Maher had a huge argument because Maher refused to come out of the bathroom. Bashar had asked, numerous times, if Maher was OK, but Maher wouldn't answer, eventually coming out of there twenty minutes later. Asma's parents arrived as soon as he'd got in there.

Shortly after getting out of there, Asma's brothers showed up and, just when Asma was about to shut the door, Bashar's sister Bushra and her son arrived - this was a surprise.

'Hello, little brother,' Bushra said joyfully, hugging Bashar.

'Hello again,' Bashar said, hugging her too.

'Bashar, don't cry again!' Maher shouted.

'Shut up, Maher!'

'Aww, is my baby brother here too?!' Bushra said with a grin, rushing inside.

'Uncle Maher's in there?' Bushra's son asked.

'Yeah.' Bashar laughed and said 'Hey, what about me?'

'Hello, Uncle Bashar,' he said, then went inside.

Bashar followed him inside and shut the door. He spent the rest of the morning listening to Asma telling everyone all about the things he did when nervous - he wished she hadn't, but he knew she wasn't being malicious, and just before lunch, she hugged him and said 'I think it's all cute.'

Sure, it was great having the whole family here, but to Bashar, something just didn't feel ... right. Was it all these people? No, surely not, they were family...

The feeling gradually grew, until Bashar decided that maybe he needed to get away from all this, and went upstairs to the bedroom, where he lay on the bed, sideways.

_Maybe we've overdone it... maybe we've rushed into it... maybe we should've done this in baby steps..._

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

'Who is it?'

'It's me.'

'... OK, come in.'

It was Zein, hair tied back and wearing some of the new clothes she'd got yesterday. 'Uh ... can I sit down?' she asked. She thought nothing of her father lying sideways on the bed.

'Of course,' he said, trying to sit up. 'Wait ... I can't sit up... wait... there we go.' He had managed to sit up and Zein sat next to him.

'What's up, my amira?'

'Well, I was going to ask mama but she's dealing with Uncle Maher...'

'Oh no, is he being a pain again?'

'Just a little... it's a bit embarrassing, actually.'

Bashar gave an exasperated sigh, then said 'I'll deal with him later ... what were you going to say?' _Please, please don't be anything about puberty or boys, please..._

'Baba, do you think we've overdone it a little?'

_Thank you, sweetheart._

'Maybe a little...'

'I mean, it's OK, I like seeing everybody again... even if Uncle Maher is a bit annoying sometimes.'

'He's always been like that...' There was a short silence. 'Zein, how have you been coping since the war ended?'

'I've been OK, but sometimes it still feels like nothing's real ... and... and...' She sighed. 'Sometimes I still cry about it.'

'Oh sweetie...' He hugged her and she hugged him back. 'You've grown so much... you're growing to be an amazing young woman...' Bashar sighed. 'Seems like only yesterday that you came running in here because there was a spider in your room.'

'How old was I, five? And Mama had to go and kill it.'

'Yeah ... spiders are living things too.'

'You ate chicken today.'

'That's different and you know it is, you had some too.'

'Yeah... I suppose you're right.'

'And besides, someone had to stop you from crying... and your mama still doesn't know the words to Mr Blue Sky like I do.' Bashar let go of Zein and she let go too. There was another short silence, until Bashar asked 'What are you reading lately?'

'Harry Potter.'

'Again?'

'Yeah.'

'Again? ... No, it's OK, darling.' He'd suddenly had an idea.

'Zein, I'm going to Maaloula later today... do you and the boys want to come with me?'

'Yes,' Zein said, and she hugged her father again, a bit tighter this time.

'Aww, thank you, 'amirat saghira... but I've got to get ready now so if you could...'

'Yeah, OK, I'll go now,' she said, standing up and walking towards the door. When she reached the door, she turned around, grinned, said 'Thank you' and left.

 


End file.
